India is nothing like what I expected. Probably because we’re in the part of India I didn’t know existed until about a month ago—this area is less congested and has a noticeably higher Chinese influence than the rest of the country. This month is all-squad month, meaning all sixty of us are tucked up into the far north east corner of India, hidden away in the jungle between Myanmar and Bangladesh, in the state of Manipur. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever laid eyes on. Lush, green, mountainous.
Our first night here, we were welcomed in the dark by a dozen or so smiling faces, one of them being Mawii Pudaite. She shook my hand and told me I had a beautiful name, and that she has indeed been to Minneapolis in the wintertime. Mawii is a small, gentle woman with eyes accented by years of smile lines. Tyra Banks probably got the “smize” from her. She’s the type you’re drawn to instantly because you know she has a good story to tell.
The morning after our arrival, when daylight was finally able to show us what India looked like, there was one thing I noticed almost instantly. There was a portrait of a man everywhere. His face was on the huge sign over the gate of our compound. His face was on t-shirts. His face greeted us in every building we entered. Of course I wondered who he is; he’s obviously very popular.
His name is Rev. Dr. Rochunga Pudaite and he is our sweet Mawii’s late husband and the founder of the ministry we’re partnering with this month, Bibles for the World. Dr. Ro passed away a year ago this month, and has left behind an incredible legacy.
The people here are a part of the Hmar tribe, historically a violent and primitive people group. In the very early 1900’s, one 22 year old white missionary from Wales risked his life to come and share the gospel with the people of Northeast India. One of the very first Hmar Christians was a man named Chawnga, who prayed to one day have a child who could read and write and translate the Bible into their native language.
Enter Rochunga. He became the first boy in his village to receive any formal schooling, and chose to further his education across India, and then Glasgow, Scotland. Then, with the help of Dr. Billy Graham and Dr. Bob Pierce (World Vision, anyone?) he did his graduate work at Wheaton College, near Chicago. Dr. Ro not only CREATED the written Hmar language (it had only ever been spoken before,) but he dedicated years to translating the ENTIRE Bible into his native tongue. During all this time he had been writing letters to Mawii, and after his translation was finished, he returned to India to propose to her.
I wish I could tell you every little detail of this story—the way Dr. Ro got to travel to Canada to meet that same white missionary who first shared the gospel with his dad; the way he wandered residential streets in the Chicago suburbs, knocking on doors and asking for a place to live; how he convinced the Indian prime minister to build post offices and government schools in the 4,000 square miles of Hmar tribal land where there previously was none. Every piece of this story leaves me stunned. There have been books written about Dr. Ro, and even a movie filmed about his life (plug for: Beyond the Next Mountain).
We had the privilege of hearing Mawii speak about Dr. Ro on the one year anniversary of his death. She couldn’t stop talking about him. She was overflowing with love and admiration. This man left a legacy of putting God above all things, of dreaming big for the Lord. Mawii spoke of him in the present tense instead of the past, and spilled over with stories of how exciting it was to follow him, to serve with him, to love him. She said she couldn’t help but agree with the people who said her love story was the most beautiful they’d ever heard. When Mawii finished telling their story, she said that her absolute favorite part of Dr. Ro was that with all of the adventure, there certainly was never a dull moment.
So now I’m left in awe of how deeply this man was loved. The way people speak about him—not just his wife, but everyone—is how I wish everyone could be remembered after they are gone. But he’s remembered that way because he did things many of us would deem impossible, or far-fetched, or too hard. Surely Dr. Ro was not the one to put his own smiling face on t-shirts and huge signs, but the people that love him did it because they recognize the profound impact he had on so many lives, and can feel the void of his absence.
For me, the story of Rochunga and Mawii is a response to everyone, including myself, that has ever believed one person couldn’t make a difference. Dr. Ro worked hard, no doubt—but really all he did was step out in obedience and faith over and over and over again. He put his complete trust in the Lord and watched his life unfold in ways he never could have dreamed. He loved his people fiercely and dreamed big things for them, and now the Hmar tribe is predominantly Christian and has one of the highest literacy rates of any people group in all of India.
Now, the ministry Rochunga founded, Bibles of the World, has distributed over 20 million copies of the Bible to over 100 nations—but they do so much more than that. They have started close to 90 schools (plus a seminary), they run the best hospital in all of Manipur, and started a sponsorship program that currently helps more than 3,000 children in India receive schooling.
The question now is, why not me? Why not us? Who’s to say Samantha—(fill in your own name there)—can’t take her own passions and desires for the world and dream a little bigger and transform an entire geographic area or people group or the whole dang world? If not me, if not you, then who? I like to think Dr. Ro would get along real well with my favorite fuzzy, colorful, woodland creature:
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” -The Lorax
It all started with a few obedient people, a vision of something greater, and a boatload of trust and faith in the One who’s the true author of every part of this ongoing, incredible tale. The time is now. It’s time to start dreaming a little bigger.
